Death for Love
by Writing Keeper
Summary: This is a challenge I accepted from a friend. The prompt she gave me was: the tale of a woman who fell tragically in love with Sherlock Holmes.


Death for Love

He never noticed her. She favored being the background whenever he was around. She was too embarrassed and shy to show herself. He'd by pass her as if she really didn't exist. Never once did he acknowledge that she was there. There were many chances for her to call out to him, just to say hi, just to make him aware of her but she never did. She knew that he didn't bother with meaningless things. It was the little things about socializing that got him ticked off. He hated it and she didn't want him to hate her. So she remained quiet. Whenever he started to work his magic, she'd stay very still and listen to his voice. It was the best sound she's ever heard. He was brilliant, a pure genius. Out of everyone that was in her life, he shined the brightest. He was brighter than any star in the sky and more captivating than the full moon.

If possible, she'd spend every waking moment watching him work his magic. It wasn't though. That position was taken and won't be available ever again. When she realized that he had a partner, she didn't know what to feel. She wasn't sure how well she was taking it. When he was alone, she felt at ease. It proved to her that she wasn't the only one having trouble approaching him. However, when his partner appeared beside him, she felt conflicted. A part of her recognized him as something necessary for him to have. They were good for each other; two broken men brought together to work miracles and save lives. As a law enforcer she accepted the gift that God had graced them with. As a woman, she was jealous, envious, and most definitely heartbroken. Someone had gotten close to him. Someone had managed to become important to him. That person wasn't her and it hurt like hell.

For a month, she avoided them like they had anthrax. Whenever he walked into the room, she'd walk into another. When he came by the Yard, she'd excuse herself to the bathroom or the break room to get coffee. It was working for her. The pain was still there but it was numbed. Without seeing him for a month, she felt the love fading. She was convinced that if she kept it up for another year, she'd be completely over him. She'd be able to love someone else, maybe that guy two desks down that had been trying to ask her out.

She should have known it wasn't going to be that easy, though. Nothing concerning him was.

A week after a month of avoiding him, she was catapulted straight into his face. The cause was a bullet to her chest. Like usual, he invaded a police investigation per the Detective Inspector's informal request. He was chasing the murderer without a weapon and recklessly. Normally she wouldn't follow after him. But when she saw him take off, something inside pulled her towards him, made her follow him. It was an aching pain right where her heart was. As she stared at his retreating back, she felt so alone, so sad. She got the feeling that she wouldn't see him again. In a desperate moment, she ran after him. He didn't notice her. He was too entranced by the chase. She saw him run into one of the apartment buildings. Quickly, she followed after him.

Her heart stopped as she took in the scene before her. He had caught up to the killer but not on his terms. He caught up because the killer had stopped to pull a gun out and point it directly at him. He looked at the gun with an interested look. He wasn't given a chance though. The killer didn't wait. Within a blink of an eye, the killer had pulled the trigger.

"No!" She shouted as she leapt in front of him. He grunted in surprise as the bullet impaled into her chest and knocked her back a bit. Her back bumped against his chest. Against her will, her body sagged against him. Without a choice, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Gently, he placed her on the floor. By then her breathing was becoming labored. The agonizing pain of the bullet ripping through her flesh was numbing. She couldn't feel the blood pumping out of her chest at a rapid pace but she saw it as he lifted his hands away to stare at it in horror. It was an expression unbefitting of him.

"You l-look strange…" she whispered to him.

"Shhh," he shushed her as he pressed down on the wound with all he had. He looked around for a moment, his eyes searching for something. That's when she remembered the killer who had shot her. She looked around too. The killer was gone.

"H-he's get-getting away…" it was getting harder for her to speak. He looked down at her. "Go…" she smiled a little.

He shook his head. He refused to leave. She glared at him.

"Please, he's getting away," she said in one breath. That breath hurt. He looked away.

"Lestrade! What were you doing? I need an ambulance." He said. She turned her head. The Detective Inspector was standing before them. An expression of worry and fear combined together was painted on his face. She tried to greet him but all that came out were coughs and blood. The Detective Inspector turned away to call for an ambulance.

"Where's the killer?"

"Gone."

They fell silent. She tried to focus on breathing but it was getting harder to do by the minute. Her vision quickly receded. She turned to look at him. The look of horror was gone. Instead his face was blank. He stared at his hands pressing down on her wound. She stared at him.

"Where's John-n?" She asked him.

"I sent him to Bart's to check on the most recent victim." He said.

"I see."

He pressed harder when the blood kept gushing out her chest. He glanced at her face. His eyes widened a bit.

"You're crying." He stated.

"Y-yes."

"Why?"

"I don't w-want to die." She answered honestly.

"You're not dying." He said. She smiled. He was attempting to comfort her. It was more than she ever hoped from him. However she knew he was lying. They both knew that she wasn't making out of this alive. This was the last time she'll ever see of him. Never again would she be able to admire him from afar. Never again would she awake in the morning with thoughts of him. Her eyes slid closed against her wish.

Tonight she died in the arms of a man who didn't love her.

_I love you._

* * *

A/N: Tell me what you think? I've never done something like this before.


End file.
